Who Is Captain Hero? A POWER MAN AND IRON FIST fan fic
by EddieHollister
Summary: A 12 year old comic book fan given the power to become the adult CAPTAIN HERO, with powers making him more than a match for any foe and NO idea how to use them responsibly. A Bronze age of comics tribute! Minor character from Marvel gets "a day in the spotlight" treatment. Original story mixed with rewriting of classic issues from new point of view.
1. Falling Star

"Bobby, you go to school today! I don't wanna be getting no calls from that vice principle again!" Mary Boone shouted up the stairs towards her foster child's door. She clomped back towards the kitchen to her breakfast of bacon and eggs, and turned down the heat on the boy's oatmeal on the stove. And yer breakfast's gonna get cold soon, get going!"

Bobby Wright was lying on his bed, dressed in his lucky red shirt and his second best pair of blue jeans, rereading one of his favorite issues of CAPTAIN AMERICA. It had been given to him when he was eight years old by his foster father at the time, Ben Carza. He had liked the Carzas, but when Kathleen Carza had gotten pregnant with their own child, they gave Bobby back to Social Services. He closed his blue eyes, trying to remember them better. At twelve, he had trouble remembering all the foster homes he had been in, they tended to blur together.

Bobby had been with seven other families in the past four years, but still hoped he would be adopted permanently. However, he did not want the Boones to be the ones. At 12, he knew it was less likely each year to be adopted. That's what the older kids in the weekly group therapy sessions had said, and he had no reason to doubt it.

He had been told his birth certificate had said he was born in Metro General Hospital in Queens to Brandi Wright. In 12 years he'd been moved through all 5 boroughs of New York City. The Social Services people had sent him to Yonkers this time.

He ran his fingers through his blond hair, his favorite gesture of being annoyed. "Captain America wouldn't have to deal with this junk," he muttered. "I bet when HE was 12 people wanted him." He turned the page, knowing by heart the words on the next page, saying them out loud as he read them.

POW! The Red Skull was knocked to the ground, the poison gas gun knocked from his hand. The ruins of the control panel for the mind control satellite were in the background of the panel. "YOUR EVIL SCHEME IS FINISHED, SKULL! YOUR NAZI CRUELTY CAN NEVER STAND UP AGAINST AMERICAN TEAM WORK!

The next panel showed Cap's partner, The Falcon, slapping the bright red, well-labeled "Hate Ray Satellite Self Destruct" button on the wall. "WE DID IT CAP! WE SAVED THE USA JUST IN TIME!"

As Cap handcuffed the Red Skull in the next panel, Bobby did his best to do a deep, evil, echoing voice. "FOILED AGAIN! BUT I SHALL RETURN… AND NEXT TIME…"

'WE'LL STOP YOU AGAIN!" Captain America, Falcon, and Bobby Wright replied in triumph.

"Come eat yer oatmeal and go to school!" Mrs. Boone shouted again from downstairs.

Bobby walked five blocks towards the local school, and then ducked through the yard of a vacant house and around to the back porch, to his favorite place to stash his school backpack on days he decided to ditch. "I'm not in the mood for a science test today. I can make it up Friday during detention anyways," he muttered to himself. Now where to go on his day off?

First stop was the magazine stand in the strip mall a quarter mile away from the Boone house. The owner Mr. Jewell saved day old newspapers for Bobby and the occasional comics with the covers stripped off that normally were thrown out when they were a month old. It was a fair trade for washing Mr. Jewell's car every weekend.

Bobby collected his haul, promised to sweep up the store later for a soda, and went to go through the day's haul at the nearest bus stop bench. Daredevil had been photographed fighting The Enforcers after they were fleeing an armored car robbery. The Avengers had been in Mexico repelling an attempt by some aliens to steal and entire Aztec pyramid. Bobby read that article twice, and tried to memorize the photo of Iron Man doing a flying tackle on a "Stone Man from Saturn," whatever THOSE were. The Daily Bugle had yet another long story apologizing for blaming Spider-Man for a series of penthouse robberies that had been the work of the Stilt Man. There were no pictures, but there was a lot of detail about how the Stilt Man had framed Spider-Man for it all that was fun reading.

The longest thing was the issue of Now Magazine that Mr. Jewell had saved for him the evil super-scientist Elias "Egghead" Starr had just died a few weeks ago. He had been a master criminal since before Bobby was born. It seemed like he'd come up against every superhero there was, and there were a lot of good stories in his obituary about the battles he had been in with Hank Pym, Spiderman, Hawkeye, the Defenders, and on and on. He'd been in a lot of the comics based on real events. "I wonder if they'll do more comics about the Yellow Claw now?" Bobby asked aloud.

The interview with Luke Cage, Power Man was his favorite of the bunch. Cage was explaining how "Heroes for Hire" was a business for people that needed help that the police couldn't do, and that private detectives couldn't handle. "We aren't just private detectives. We are superdetectives!" Cage was quoted as saying. The story described how Cage and his partner, the "Iron Fist" had been hired by the United Nations to provide security for high level meetings between the leaders of the countries Dhakran and Khotain, wherever THEY were.

"If they're super detectives, I wonder if they could find my real mom," Bobby muttered to himself. The social workers had told him all that was known about his mom was that she was a teenager who had given him up because she didn't think she could give him a good home. The New York Department of Social Services had been trying to find him a permanent home and an adoptive family ever since he was six months old. Maybe now his real mom was ready to be a family, and would want him back.

He saved the comics for last. The best of the bunch were some reprints telling the real life adventures of the Fantastic Four. Bobby didn't know if they were the whole story or not, but he loved to read about superheroes exploring space, and other dimensions the most. He never had a place that felt like home, so exploring the unknown sounded like a good way to live. He could understand always looking for a better place.

Bobby rolled up the comics he wanted to keep and jammed them in his back pocket, and threw the rest of his reading material in the bus stop trashcan. He decided to walk to Tibbetts Brook Park and watch the clouds. Anything was better than that spelling test today!

After an hour of daydreaming and cloud watching, Bobby had seen 3 flying saucers, 2 houses, a car, four human heads, one wolf head…. and a very bright light that looked like it was getting bigger. He had time to think A METEOR! when he felt the sound of the bright light slam into the ground about a hundred yards away. Bobby leapt up and ran where he thought it had landed.

"Meteorites are worth money," he said to himself as he ran. "I remember THAT much from Earth Science class! What else… OK, it'll be hot when it hits. So I have to wait until it cools down, then carry it off before anyone ELSE comes looking for it." With some zigging and zagging across the park, he found a six foot across hole that the falling star had pounded into the soil, about 3 feet deep. In the center was… it.

The meteorite was about five inches across, a blasted, black rock, giving off as much heat as an oven. "Not hot as I thought," Bobby said aloud, looking around for a good-sized poking stick. A few pokes without the wood bursting into flame later, he settled down waiting for it to cool enough to try to carry off. He sat, and thought of the comic book stories he had read involving meteorites.

Alien ships were mistaken for falling meteors. But this one looked too small for THAT. All the photos he ever saw of Kree or Skrulls or the rest of the aliens people knew about were human sized or bigger. But maybe it had space roaches inside. That'd be cool to see!

Lots of stories were about weird things from space giving people superpowers. He remembered a few about cavemen becoming immortal from meteors. Another was a superhero with a magic ring made from a meteor that gave him his powers. "It'd be awesome if I found a meteor that made into the next Blue Marvel, or Sentry," Bobby said, feeling the heat diminish as he held his hands close to the mysterious rock. "I bet if I was special, a family would want me. Or If I sold this thing I could get enough to help find my mom…" Guessing it was cool enough to try and carry away, he stood over it, reached down, got both hands on it and lifted. It was lighter than he expected, and felt sort of tingly, like the time he stuck a fork in a toaster when he was six years old…

Bobby Wright heard himself screaming, and then everything went black.

"Doctor! The patient in room 112 is waking up!" a woman's voice called from somewhere close. Bobby tried to open his eyes, and managed on the fourth try. He was laying in a bed, he recognized the smells and sounds of a hospital from the times he had been injured before. The sheets were stiff, the pajamas were itchy, and it was dark outside he saw, looking out the window. What had happened?

The nurse in green scrubs moved quickly out of the room, and a middle-aged woman in the familiar white coat he had seen many times before. Her name badge said O'Neil.

"Ok, good. Being awake is a very good sign. You were found in James Fleming Park, unconscious in a meteor crater. Do you remember being there?" She asked, sounding like a teacher giving a pop quiz. Bobby nodded.

"We need to know your name, where you live, your phone number." He replied. "Can you tell me what day it is, the whole date?" Bobby answered. Next she'd ask who was President or something like that, to see if he'd knocked anything loose in his head when he… when whatever happened had happened.

"Hey, where's my rock?! I was gonna sell that!" he gasped, looking around. "I need that to pay for…" he didn't want to say what he wanted most in the world. "… some stuff I need," he ended quietly.

Dr. O'Neil looked confused for a second, then replied almost kindly, "I'm sure any reward for finding it will be given to you. From what I could tell there was a lot of interest in it. Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone knows you found it. Now do you feel any pain or anything strange?" She sounded like she actually cared, putting Bobby at ease.

There were tests, blood samples, machines that went ping, others that made fast clicks. Finally they said he could eat after one last blood sample. Bobby agreed but he wasn't happy. He was hungry, he wanted his rock back, and as the medical technician approached with the needle, he thought "NO!"

The needle bent against the skin of his arm, as if his body was made of steel. Confused, the young man attempted again with another collection needle. This time Bobby thought to himself "NO MORE JABS." The needle passed through Bobby's arm as if he was a ghost. Stunned, the technician tried to touch Bobby on the shoulder, and his hand passed through the young boy as if nothing was there.

"I WANT TO EAT NOW!" Bobby yelled.

The next morning, Bobby was in an office with his foster mother Mary Boone, and a doctor from the St. Mary Medical Center who had been introduced as Dr. Lawrence West. West was a bald, worried looking man in a three piece suit. Bobby thought his mustache and goatee was a lame attempt to look cool on Dr. West's part. Mrs. Boone and the doctor were going back and forth about things Bobby didn't care about. He sat there tuning them out, thinking about what happened.

Since last night, he had gotten better at turning super-solid and going into what he thought of as "ghost mode." It wasn't the COOLEST superpower he ever heard of, but he had to admit it was pretty cool. He had tried to walk through a wall that morning and managed on the second try. If he thought about making his body hard as steel, he seemed to be stronger, but at 4'11" he still didn't have enough leverage to lift anything too big yet.

Maybe he could be a costumed hero. If he got to be a partner with Luke Cage as a "hero for hire," maybe Cage and Iron Fist could help him find his mom. He started designing a costume in his imagination as he practiced going from "man of steel" to "ghost mode" fast as he could.

Words passed by in the background as he thought.

"… exhibiting control of molecular structure."

"Any extra money for taking care of a mutie?"

"…need your permission legally for more testing, as you are the legal guardian at the moment."

"Testing? Will that screw up my 600 bucks a month I need to take care of 'im?"

More boring talk. Bobby liked the idea of a cape. Spiderman, Captain America, The Hulk, most heroes didn't wear capes. But he had seen Thor flying over Manhattan twice and that red cape made people notice, like being a living flag. And mask or no mask?

"…cellular damage. It's very slight now, but we don't know what could be ahead…"

Damage? The word jumped out at Bobby as he was wondering about flying and if Thor ever got bugs smashed on his face.

"I dunno about that, Bobby looks fine, don't ya boy?" Mrs. Boone said, barely looking at him.

"I can get a court order, but it will be much quicker if you give permission as his legal guardian right now," Dr. West said in his high-pitched nasal voice. "I've never seen anything like this. I don't think anyone has. Bobby has been given control over the very atoms of his body. But I'm seeing cellular decay that looks like the early stages of leukemia. If that's correct, these new abilities could kill him! Please, I am begging you, let us take action. Otherwise valuable time could be wasted."

"Talk to me after the first of the month when I get the next check," Mrs. Boone said, unconcerned. "C'mon Bobby. Time to go."

He was going to die. And he never had a mom, never had a family. No one was going to miss him.

Screw that! Bobby Wright might not be able to have a family, might have no one to miss him when he died.

But Captain Hero would.

Post script, author's statement.

Modern comic books are pretty much unreadable for me. I remember being 6 years old, reading old copies of the Stan Lee/Steve Ditko Spiderman run and being swept away with it. I watched reruns of the 1960s THE MARVEL SUPER HEROES on UHF stations when I got home from kindergarten every day. I would bug my family to hit three or four different drug stores a month so I could buy all the silver age comics I could find.

I used to be a HUGE Marvel fan. I still defend Jim Shooter to people who bash his time as editor in chief. Secret Wars? Contest of Champions? The Trial of Hank Pym? Frank Miller's Wolverine? Good times.

Then the 90s. Anti-heroes. The whole "grim and gritty, kill 'em all dark age." Then it got ridiculous. THE CLONE SAGA… oh lord, that was unreadable. ONE MORE DAY, SECRET INVASION, DARK REIGN…. And over at DC, girlfriends, sidekicks, token minorities were getting raped, killed, stuffed into fridges on a regular basis.

You know… for kids!

The deaths of Cassie Lang, Gertrude Yorkes, BOTH Wasps, Captain America, Spiderman, on and on, all cheap drama.

It took me back to the first comic book death that really pissed me off. Comicvine has the whole original summary here captain-hero/4005-10298/ but here's the short version.

Introduced in POWER MAN AND IRON FIST #111, NOVEMBER 1984, issue titled WHO IS CAPTAIN HERO?

A 12 year old kid gets handed the chance to be one of the most powerful superheroes in the Marvel Universe. He's an orphan, he just wants to belong, to have someone care about him after being alone his whole life. And the one thing that makes him special will most likely kill him.

I LOVED it. Yes, sure, it was pretty much the SHAZAM! Captain Marvel with leukemia, but it got to me. When it came out in November of 1984, I planned on someday writing for Marvel. And I had an idea for a series with this new character that I just KNEW would sell well.

He appeared five times in POWER MAN AND IRON FIST, and when the book was abruptly cancelled in September of 1986 with issue #125… they killed him off, as well as killing off Iron Fist, and sending Power Man on the run, framed for Iron Fist's murder in a really stupid plot twist. Also torpedoing my submission package I dreamed of getting Jim Shooter himself to approve and shout HIRE THIS KID!

So now, almost 30 years later, I've decided to show a few readers on just what I would have tried to set the comics world on fire with back in the late 80s. Along the way it'll be one long WHAT IF? story. If I stick with it long enough it'll be a alternate reality, general, in character, SOME original characters but mostly minor and major Marvel Universe characters, anti-"grimdark"

If anyone else out there misses the Silver Age, let's bring it back!


	2. Learning to Fly

WHO IS CAPTAIN HERO? A POWER MAN & IRON FIST FAN FIC – CHAPTER TWO  
From the hospital, Mrs. Boone took Bobby straight to school. Her red Ford sedan was almost as old as Bobby was, and rattled loud enough to be heard over what she was saying.

"Look. Your teachers called and I got to go to a conference with them. Yer flunkin' algebra, and getting' Cs in everything else. So they're gonna set up some extra tutoring after school. Ask your math teacher about it. And don't worry about that doctor. They don't know what they're talkin' about mosta the time. They told my husband he had six months ta live five years ago. He's still working at the post office strong as a horse, double shifts some days. So ya touched a rock that fell outta the sky. Big deal," she scoffed. "No reason to change things around. Just work on your math class, and you'll be fine. Maybe eat more vegetables."

Bobby slouched low in the car seat, sulking. For one thing, he was a superhero! He shouldn't have to go to school like he was an ordinary kid. "OK, I'm not a superhero YET," he thought. "I can walk through walls, and people can't touch me if I don't want them too. I can be hard as a rock. But I still look like a 12-year-old kid. Yeah, I can see it now..."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dr. Doom stood on the bridge of his flying battleship, made to look like a quarter mile long flying Dr. Doom. He was just that full of himself. The craft was hovering over the Baxter Building. "MINIONS! ACTIVATE THE AUDIO THREAT PROJECTOR!" Victor Von Doom would never lower himself to speaking in an indoor voice, or simply to say "turn on the loudspeaker please."

Uniformed Latverian soldiers and elaborately weaponized robots swarmed the ship, while beneath them Manhattan looked up, all thinking the same thought…. "Dr. Doom trying to kill Reed Richards? Is it Tuesday again already?"

Von Doom's deep voice, dripping with selfish pride echoed across the canyons of the cityscape. "BEHOLD CITIZENS OF NEW YORK CITY, AS I PROVE ONCE AND FOR ALL THAT REED RICHARDS IS MY INFERIOR! I HAVE ALREADY COATED THEIR BUILDING IN LIQUID DIAMOND, TRAPPING ALL WITHIN! MY FORCE BEAMS SHALL RIP THE HEADQUARTERS OF THE FANTASTIC FOUR FROM THE EARTH AND CAST IT TO THE CENTER OF THE SUN!"

In the streets, The Mighty Avengers fought dozens of Doom-bots, in the skies the X-men fought in vain to get through the giant flying statue's force field. Was there no one to save The Fantastic Four? (and all the other people in the Baxter Building that people tended to forget about?)

"Not so fast, you metal faced jerk!" people heard as a red and blue streak flew through the sky towards the Latverian monarch's flying monument to himself. A news stand operator in Central Park shouted "It's Captain Hero! He'll shut that jerk up!"

"Captain Hero on our scanners, my liege!" a sub-commander reported to the armored mad scientist. "Putting shields to maximum!"  
"FIRE THE LIGHTNING CANNON," Doom roared.

"He flew right through our shields…. And the lightning passed through him with no effect!" the sub-commander blurted, the realized his mistake.  
"DOOM DOES NOT ACCEPT FAILURE," a metal gauntlet pointed an accusing finger at the hapless soldier.

"Hey, you designed the dang weapons, not my fault you suck…" he said as the disintegration beam turned him to dust where he sat.

Captain Hero in his world famous "ghost mode" walked right through the command deck wall, revealed in his red suit, with blue cape flowing behind him, blue boots, shorts and gloves. "We meet at last you loud mouthed bully! Prepare to face a fight like you've never had in your life…"

Victor Von Doom was laughing. And pointing. And doubled over. "HE… HE'S NOT EVEN…. BWAH-HA-HA! FIVE FEET TALL!" The Latverian soldiers were laughing. Even the dang robots…."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Whatcha laughing at, are you ok?" Mrs. Boone sounded as concerned as she ever had as she pulled up to the front of the school.

Bobby was chuckling and giggling at the thought of his being a 12-year-old superhero. "I'm fine, I just figured out a problem I hadn't thought of."

"Well get going," his foster mother sighed. "Yer lunch is in yer bookbag. And don't do anything, you know… weird. Just be a normal kid, ok?"

"Fiiiiiine….." he muttered, grabbing his bag and opening the door.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After lunch, Bobby had just about given up figuring out how to fly. He'd gotten the hang of changing how solid he was. He had guessed that maybe letting himself go into ghost-mode and thinking UP really hard would do it. So he had snuck off behind the field house and tried it.

Nothing. He had even tried jumping high as he could, and didn't THAT make him look stupid when a bunch of older girls came past?

The bell rang, and he went to his locker to collect his books. So he'd have to sit through English and Science before he could leave and try some other ideas. Maybe if he jumped off….

It hit him. Why not just ask someone for ideas to try?

In English class, they were discussing myths that month. Asking every question he could think of he still couldn't steer the class discussion to how people did things that were impossible, like climb walls and spin spider webs, or turn themselves into human torches without burning to death.

Ms. Hannigan looked a bit annoyed at having her planned lesson derailed. "Bobby Wright, I'm trying to teach about the ancient stories that humans told each other to explain right and wrong, the struggle for the farmer's son to become King. Ulysses spending ten years to return home from war, cursed by the Gods to never arrive until he finishes his quest. This story has taught people how to never give up in the hardest times possible. These myths tell the reason people try to accomplish anything, and what they need to learn how to do it. You're talking about things that actually happened. Reed Richards and the Fantastic Four actually DID stop the Mole Man from stealing nuclear reactors by lowering them into tunnels to the center of the Earth. That's not myths at all!"

Bobby shook his head. "But a hero makes other people want to try to be a better, braver person. They set a good example, right? So when Spider-Man risks his life to save people in the city, even though some people are scared of him, that's a good example like you were talking about. Captain America fights people that want to take away freedom, just the same as you said Beowulf fought a monster that was attacking a kingdom. I don't see why one's important, and the other's not?"

He debated the teacher for most of the rest of the class. The most satisfaction he could get was when the teacher admitted that maybe the Greek Gods were actually space aliens since everyone in New York had seen Galactus, the Silver Surfer and remembered all the time Earth had been invaded.

Usually the other kids in school tended to ignore him. Bobby wasn't even important enough to get bullied. But after class, several of the other students thanked him for distracting the teacher with all his questions. "At least we didn't have to hear her read BEOWULF again, thanks Bobby!" A girl smiled at him and said as she walked past.

Bobby made two mental notes for the future. Ask more questions. Get more girls to smile at him.

Science class was a little more helpful. The unit that month was "earth science" so the first chance he got to ask a question, his hand shot up.  
"Mr. Zapata, what makes gravity work? I know you say things fall at the same speed and all, but why? Can you just… I dunno, turn it off?"

Mr. Zapata looked flustered. He'd planned on discussing weather. But for some reason the class seemed eager to hear the answer to Bobby's question. "Part of the problem is, we don't KNOW why gravity works. There are theories. But we don't know for a fact what causes it. It involves a lot of higher math to even explain the guesses properly," Zapata bluffed, hoping that Bobby would drop it.

But he was on a roll. He needed to have some clue how to do the impossible "What's the best guess then? I mean, we all saw the Skrull warships on TV just floating in the sky. How'd they do it? I mean come on, it can't be THAT hard? I saw that crazy old guy Spider-Man arrests every few months, The Vulture once flying in the Bronx. How'd he do it, his wings weren't that big."

One girl in the back that Bobby had noticed drawing giant robots and funny animal cartoons in classes raised her hand. "On ACTION DELIVERY FORCE they say they use gravity reflecting energy screens, so the gravity bounces off the delivery ship. In episode 3 season 4…." She trailed off as she noticed to blank looks she was getting. "You guys don't watch that show?"

Mr. Zapata did his best, using words like "graviton particles" and explained how some people think every atom has some gravitons inside it. "These gravitons are attracted to each other like the magnets I explained a few weeks back. So try to imagine them dragging the atom they are inside along for the ride, towards each other. So all the atoms that make up your body are being dragged towards every OTHER atom."

Bobby was trying to picture it, since his imagination seemed to be how his powers worked so far. "Then why aren't we all being torn apart? I'm being pulled down, I get that part. But I don't feel like I'm getting pulled any other ways?"

While it was annoying having to adjust his lesson plans, the class was paying more attention than they had in months. "That's because all the forces tend to even out. Remember about air pressure, we're all being pushed from all sides by a lot of force, but since it's all around us, it cancels out. So the gravity from the ceilings, the walls, the other people in the room, it all evens out. Except for the BIGGEST thing pulling on you with all the gravitons in every atom it has. The Earth is the biggest thing around, so it pulls the hardest."

Mr. Zapata sighed with relief. He'd explained it without losing too many of them. "So to fly, that fellow you mentioned, The Vulture? I imagine whatever techno-gizmo he has in his costume blocks the pull of all the atoms in the Earth, or enough of them that he can fly by flapping artificial wings. And yes, it probably does work kind of like the ones that Diane mentioned in her TV show. He can't cancel ALL of it, or he's shoot straight up into space and get pulled to the Moon, or more likely into the sun. So he needs something make him lighter, that's the gravity part. And the wings move him around so he doesn't just go straight up."

The lecture went into a discussion of how wings work by changing air pressure in one direction, and the class livened up. Mr. Zapata thought that perhaps letting students ask questions was worth doing more often sometimes, when no administrators were looking.

Bobby spent the rest of the class thinking about gravity and trying to work out how to imagine it bouncing off him. And how if he weighed almost nothing, and most of the air pressure on one side of his body stopped being there, he'd be pushed that way… If he could imagine it right, he knew he could do it. Why not, he had learned how to do two other impossible things since yesterday!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Feeling nervous, Bobby Wright stood on a hill half way between school and the Boone house. He imagined a mirror under his feet. Blocking the gravity, reflecting it away from his body. He could swear he felt lighter. Now he just needed to imagine the air pushing down on him from the top going away a bit….

He stood there for several minutes trying to think of nothing else. Suddenly he found the right way to think, and he shot up 100 feet straight up.

'YEEEEEEE-OOOOWWWW!"

By sundown he was sure he could fly without looking silly when he tried to impress Luke Cage. "I'll be ready in a few more days," he told a confused looking sparrow he was flying alongside. "The way things are going I'll have help finding my mom in no time!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Author's notes  
This story was written shortly after THE SECRET WARS in 1983, so I'm setting the whole rest of this at that point in Marvel continuity. So all the really stupid AGE OF APOCALYPSE, ONSLAUGHT, HEROES REBORN stuff hasn't happened yet, and if I write enough stories I'll decide it was all a bad dream Franklin Richards had.

Google "The Fantastic Four (1961-88) was The Great American Novel" if you want to see a BRILLIANT discussion on just how Marvel lost their mind, and why they were awesome once upon a time.

Don't worry, I'll get to explaining how his powers work when I get to it folks.

Thanks for tuning in!


	3. A Day on the Job at Heroes for Hire

Luke Cage tugged at his shirt collar, uncomfortable out in public "out of uniform." It had taken him a while to get used to wearing a super-suit; he'd liked the one he found back when he started, based on a flashy escape artist, now long since retired. He was a walking billboard for his freelance superhero business, in a bright yellow disco-shirt, blue tight pants and yellow pirate boots with a chain link belt and matching steel wrist and headbands. But it had worked. Anyone crazy enough to wear THAT get up in public was DARING people to laugh. People really had assumed anyone bad enough to wear that with a straight face was one dangerous dude. A few years of wearing the same thing anytime in public and now the uniform was like a part of him. Wearing a regular suit-and-tie look just felt weird to his steel hard skin. He checked his watch; it was four minutes past their two PM appointed time to see their new client.

"So let me get this straight," Luke said, giving Danny Rand a sideways glance. "We're getting paid $20,000 for two days work… EACH… and they want us undercover? Who hires HEROES FOR HIRE and wants us to look like ordinary chumps?"

Danny, better known to the world as "Iron Fist," shrugged leaning on the wall of the reception area at the Physics Department of Empire State University. He looked more comfortable in business casual than Luke did. One reason he wore a concealing facemask and outlandish ballet dancer combat gear as a superhero was just so he could blend in when he was off duty. "Professor Vance's secretary didn't explain much over the phone. Just that Vance was doing a public demonstration of some very high tech gizmos, the sort wanna-be supervillains drool all over themselves at the chance to steal. And that he'd explain why not tipping anyone off that we were anyone special was so important."

"I'm sorry you were kept waiting, Tuesdays are the Professor's busiest class day this year. I'll take you back to his office now, he just got in." The department secretary came around from behind the window counter and he escorted them down the hall. "Now I shouldn't say this. But Professor Vance is very touchy about…"

"Yeah, I get it, we looked him up. Thanks," Luke said quietly. "We'll put on our poker faces."

A quick knock earned a "come in!"

Danny opened the door and entered first. As the faster and more silent of the two fighters, they had learned long ago to have him go into any unfamiliar situation first, with the invulnerable, superhumanly strong Luke covering their exit route. Once again, they entered a room with the wrong idea of what to expect.

Standing at the desk was a young White boy of about 15, with black, neatly combed hair, dressed in a grey slacks with white button down shirt and black tie. He appeared to be operating on a very large blue teddy bear, while a small Black girl of about seven in red overalls and a blue top watched, peering over the edge of the desk.

"Gentlemen, please have a seat. Minor emergency, my sister's teddy bear had the hiccups in his voice box. I'm Professor Vance, I'm very glad to meet you both. Call me Terry.

"Melanie has wanted to meet you for some time Mr. Cage. She loves super heroes. When she heard I was going to hire you both, she insisted on coming in with me today." He leaned in with what appeared to be a soldering iron. "Bluebeary, try the test now."

"She sells sea shells…" the bear spoke, its mouth moving and its eyes blinking.

"Melanie, this is Luke Cage, and his partner, Daniel Rand. They'll be guarding the class the day after tomorrow, if they agree to take the job. Be polite, introduce yourself."

Melanie walked to where they were sitting and shyly stuck out her hand, and with a very serious expression shook Luke's hand first, then Danny's. "Mr. Power Man, you're my fav'rite hero. My brother always makes sure I get to see anything on TV with you on it. And I think you're good too Mr. Iron Fist," she giggled a nervously.

"Your brother… " Danny said. "He's your bear's doctor too?"

"Yep, he made Bluebeary for me, so he's the best to fix him."

"I'm sorry," Professor Terry Vance said, zipping up the bear's back. "Bluebeary is actually one of my most advanced robotics experiments. He's actually one of the items you'll be guarding at my lecture tomorrow. I'll be demonstrating some of the cutting edge items in super-science to the students and on camera to be broadcast on C-Span for anyone outside who cares to watch"

Cage frowned, and Danny looked confused. "I see why you're concerned," Danny replied. "It seems like any time any cutting edge invention gets displayed in New York City some outlaw scientist in a costume tries to steal it. Every time Tony Stark's company does a press conference here, local law enforcement goes on high alert."

"So what are you showing off to the students? Luke stood up and peered at the bear currently climbing off of the desk. "I mean a robot teddy bear is cute…"

"Thanks, Power Man!" Bluebeary said in a high pitched, cheery voice.

"…But I can't imagine Dr. Doom or the Red Ghost trying to take over the world with an army of blue three foot high bears. No offense."

"Actually, I'd pay real money to see that…" Danny said under his breath, causing Melanie to giggle.

"Blueberry is more than he seems," Terry interjected. "But the day after tomorrow I'll be demonstrating a disintegrator, a proton blaster, some advanced force field equipment, anti-gravity devices, a compact antimatter reactor, a fully automated computer network penetration tester, a freeze ray, a heat ray, as well as discussing the basics of several "super soldier formulas" to create super-powered beings…"

"I think we might have to raise our fee…" Luke Cage said rubbing his forehead. In his imagination, he was picturing an army of costumed lunatics on a shopping spree.

"It's not that bad, Mr. Power Man. My brother's protected his stuff before by himself. He just needs YOU guys because there's one bad guy he's trying not to hurt."

"Maybe you should start at the beginning, I'm getting confused?" Danny said. "Can we go somewhere for some coffee for Luke and tea for me? And I think your sister wants some… cookies?"

At the Empire State University Student Union, Professor Terry Vance sipped his soda, opened his sister's box of cookies for her, helped Bluebeary the teddy bear-robot into a seat, and appraised the Heroes for Hire of his situation.

"I was a child prodigy. I started speaking complete sentences at around 6 months old, and had picked up Spanish and Korean from the neighbors. My parents on the other hand were not very bright people. They assumed I was actually an "outer space baby from Mars," I remember them saying. They packed up their belongings and left me behind. One of the neighbors heard me crying and called the police. Otherwise I'd have starved to death."

"Christmas…" Luke muttered.

"My adopted family did their best to encourage me.

"I'm not the brightest child prodigy ever," Terry continued. "I mean, Akrit Jaswal in India, and this is true, is a medical prodigy that performed his first surgery at seven. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote his first Symphony at 11. Others have done more impressive things than I have. I read and memorized the Oxford English Dictionary and the Encyclopedia Britannica at the New York Public library when I was seven, and used that to get admitted into taking college classes here at Empire State by my eighth birthday.

"I'm not creative, at least not yet. I'm still learning all that has already been discovered by others. But I have studied every branch of science, and taken apart some of the most advanced super-science on the planet. Once I know someone has shown a thing is possible, I can figure out a cheaper and easier way to do it, and usually better.

"For example, I studied what I could about the "synthetic humans" that others invented, that became the super heroes known as The Human Torch, Dynamic Man and The Vision. Then I duplicated them, and improved the ideas. Right now my work is being tested in Europe, and there may be artificial kidneys, livers and eyes being transplanted into patients within about two years.

"I built my first robot at ten, so my sister could have the coolest birthday gift possible for a five year old to have. Software wise, it wasn't the most sophisticated robots ever built. But it got me noticed."

"I'll bet," Danny Rand replied. "If I was in the computer business I'd have tried to hire you soon as I heard about it."

"I think he meant he got NOTICED…" Luke said.

"It was both. I started to get hired as an engineering consultant that year. After that, I was kidnapped by several criminal super scientists who thought they could chain me to a work bench and force me to design kill-bots for them."

"What idiots!" Melanie laughed.

"They really didn't think that through did they boss?" Bluebeary asked.

"So what happened?" Danny asked.

Terry sipped his soda, and paused to get a coloring book out of Melanie's book bag for her. "I memorized all their super-science research that I claimed I needed to design a kill-bot. Then I built a kill-bot."

"Ooooohhhhhh….." Luke said. "Then you gave them a demonstration of how well the kill-bot worked, and went home."

"Exactly," the young boy said with an old man's smile. "After that, I added some bodyguard functions to my sister's bear, and used some creativity to safeguard my family and myself. Once two squads of HYDRA commandos vanished mysteriously, and Dr. Octopus had all eight of his limbs shattered, word got out. I have been left alone. Bluebeary has done wonderful work protecting my sister as well."

"I haven't had much trouble with anyone trying to steal my work or kidnap me. Until this month, that is. Apparently I have an "arch-nemesis" now, is that the current term for it?"

"Who is it?" Luke asked.

"Bentley Wittman, The Wizard? He steals technology all the time." Danny guessed.

Terry Vance shook his head. "He's known as The Looter or as "The Meteor Man." His name is Norton Fester. A self-taught scientist, he had some theories on cosmology that were actually quite promising, in a totally out-of-the-box way. He was never able to get funding, or even to have his theories taken seriously. By chance, he came across a meteor that he hoped would prove some of his ideas. It could have been his chance at being taken seriously and getting funding to do some serious research."

"He couldn't get the help he needed, so he examined the meteor himself, using out of date tools, with no protection from radiation or biological contamination. He was affected by something, and became superhumanly strong. Since then he's been stealing all he can to do his own research, getting into fist fights with Spiderman, Nighthawk and Giant-Man, and he STILL hasn't been able to do anything interesting with his theories."

"He broke into my lab here at the college three weeks ago. The security system gave him a shock that could have dropped a rhino and he ran off. He tried to break into our house to get into my private workshop…"

"Yeah, I got him that time. TOTALLY scared him with my "demonic toy" routine. Ya want to see it?" Bluebeary said, and his eyes began to glow red.

"Later, that's a good bear." Terry replied. "So last weekend, I was taking a cab home from a meeting with my lawyer, and The Looter leaps onto the hood of the cab, rips out the engine to make it stop, and tears the door off the cab to get to me."

"How did you get away?" Danny asked, curious. "I've heard of The Looter, in terms of physical power he's more than a match for Spiderman, and while he has no training he can be very dangerous."

"I never leave the house without several gadgets of my own design. I used one of them to escape before he could so much as blink in my direction. But since he isn't going to go away, I want to resolve this. Not with a costumed fistfight, not with kill-bots and ray guns and the usual methods. I want to set up a situation where I can talk to The Looter, get him to see sense. My lecture Thursday is bait to get him in a place where I can talk to him."

"So where do we come in?" Power Man asked.

"In case he doesn't listen," Iron Fist replied.

"And in case anyone ELSE tries to take the bait," Terry summed up.


	4. Plans, tactics and tactical errors

Bobby Wright had a problem. OK, he had several problems. OK, he had problems most 12 year olds didn't. He decided to start over.

Figuring out how to talk to someone that he didn't know about what was going on was turning out to be very hard. He couldn't just say "My name is Bobby, and I found a meteor that gave me superpowers. I'm trying to figure out how to be a superhero to get other heroes to help me find my mom who I haven't seen since I was a few months old." They'd think he was nuts.

There was a comic book convention in Manhattan that weekend. Some of the writers and artists there had been doing stories inspired by heroes like Prince Namor, the Human Torch and Captain America since the 1940s. If ANYONE could tell him the best way to get Luke Cage to be his friend, one of them could.

Sitting in Dr. West's office at the hospital, he had time to think about his plans. His social worker had insisted he get another exam, to see what the meteor had done to him. It wasn't like he was a MUTANT or anything, why were they making such a big deal of it? He felt fine, actually. Mrs. Boone might have been right, he didn't feel sick at all.

His social worker had explained that Dr. West worked for the state government, and was the only doctor that focused on children with super powers that the department of social services used. Bobby didn't know if that meant he was the best expert, or just the one that worked for the least amount of money

The kid ahead of him in line to see the doctor was a teenage girl with green hair, he guessed she was 14 or 15. After he came in and sat down, a mom came in with a toddler. He'd been watching them trying to guess why they were there. Then he noticed the toddler start to crawl up the wall burbling happily. Well that explains THAT. He watched the girl with green hair, wondering if her hair was her superpower, or maybe she could turn things green? Maybe she could talk to plants? Or make plants grow super big, and then walk around like monster plants. That'd be awesome, a general for an army of angry flowers… Bobby imagined a daffodil climbing the Empire State Building, growling at police helicopters, the green haired girl laughing sinister-ly as she yelled "OBEY YOUR LEAFY OVERLORD!"

The girl laughed suddenly. "Leafy overlord," she said quietly, and giggled. "I dye it that color, silly."

Bobby blushed. Then he thought at her with a little jealousy, "Mind reading? Lucky! You could be like, the world's greatest detective! Just run up to people and ask "what's your biggest secret" and they would THINK it right then..."

The green-haired girl smiled at him, as the receptionist called her number. She rose, waved good-bye to him and entered Dr. West's office.

A cute girl… an OLDER cute girl just smiled at him and waved! And they talked, kind of. She was a mind reader, and he was a superhero, so maybe they could hang out and date someday…

"Aw dang…. I bet she heard that…" he muttered, blushing.

MEANWHILE…

Danny Rand was on the phone to Misty Knight, discussing his latest job as he walked back to the Times Square offices he and Luke operated from. She had been a police detective, was half of Nightwing Restorations, a successful private detective company. Most importantly, she was the most special woman in his life. She and her business partner Colleen Wing had been a great help on several Heroes for Hire cases. He was hoping they would be able to pitch in over the next three days.

"So it sounds like a straight forward security job," Misty said curiously. "Except for the part where people who beat the snot outta the Fantastic Four and the Avengers might show up to steal the show. Are you guys sure you might not wind up out of your league?" She put her feet up on her desk and looked out the window of her Murray Hill office. "You and Luke are some tough customers, but what if this kid's plan draws some real heavy hitters looking to grab his gizmos?"

"I know, I know. But we talked to him about it. He really thinks this Norton Fester character can be rehabilitated, brought back from being an outlaw. Vance tried to explain the work Fester did before he went off the rails. I couldn't follow most of it. Apparently before he became a masked criminal, The Looter was talking about dark matter and dark energy before anyone else even had words for it. Everyone thought he was insane, but now what he was talking about has become accepted theory. Vance got a hold of some of the papers that Fester tried to have published years ago, and he claims they are brilliant. I have to take Vance's word for it, and since he's supposed to be the next Tony Stark, his word is pretty good on the subject."

Misty whistled. "So this kid wants to do what, turn him back into a scientist, get him to stop stealing and start getting research grants instead? It'd be great if it worked. Get all these mad scientists on some Prozac and get them working on something useful."

Danny chuckled. "I'm sure Dr. Doom would design a hell of a good iPhone actually. So are you and Colleen busy for the next few days? We could use the help, even if it is just figuring out which super-science criminal types are currently out of jail and in the area, so we can guess who might show up."

Misty thought for a second, and replied "We can juggle some things around. I can get some friends to do the digging around to see if the Mole Man or the Red Ghost have been in town this week. We can join you on Friday at the big event, though if Galactus shows up you are on your OWN, lover. Think it's worth asking some other folks to be there just in case?"

"I'll get back to you on that one. I'm heading back to the office to plan tomorrow. Professor Vance is doing interviews on the morning local news shows. He's conducting this special lecture for his classes in the ESU concert hall, and selling tickets to the public. So we'll be alongside him for all that in case The Looter makes a move earlier than expected."

"Where's Luke," Misty asked as she began writing down ideas of where to begin.

"Vance's little sister was there, and she is a huge fan of "Mr. Power Man." Luke doesn't get to have fans often, he offered to see them home safely. I think he just wanted to feel appreciated for what he does for a while longer."

MEANWHILE, SEVERAL MONTHS AGO…

At the Mainstream Motors test track in New Jersey, a crowd of reporters and car enthusiasts were gathered to watch the demonstrations and speed trials of the new line of cars the company was bringing out that year. The event was currently being disrupted by a yellow and green costumed kook calling himself "Chemistro." If the name didn't clue you in, his gimmick was being able to change matter from one sort to another with his so-called Alchemy Gun.

Chemistro was really Curtis Carr, an engineer who had invented the Alchemy Gun while working for Mainstream Motors and then got his nose out of joint because they wanted to own what they'd paid him to make for them. Somehow, he thought he was being stolen from. Going to court or suing sounded complicated, so the genius decided the solution to all life's problems was to dress up and use his invention to attack Mainstream Motor's New York business office, and the next day a meeting of their board. So today, he was there to turn sports cars into jell-o, asphalt into glue and pretty much trash the place using his super-science invention. Luke Cage had been hired to be there and stop Chemistro.

"That's silly," Melanie scowled, interrupting Luke Cage's story. "I mean even if he turned everyone in the company to, to, CHEESE, it wouldn't make any difference? He still made his magic gun for the people he worked for." She held her bear by the paw as the four of them walked to the subway to Grand Central Station. "That can't be right? Sounds like when I used to yell an' fuss to get my way."

"USED to," Bluebeary asked. "You fussed for waffles this morning until I made them for you."

"Silly bear. I'm a little girl, I can get away with it. Grown-ups can't."

Luke shrugged, and smiled at the pair. "I've been a superhero for a few years, I can tell you both, most of the people I meet are just little kids having a tantrum and yellin' MINE!"

"Oh, OK," Melanie said seriously. "Just making sure Bluebeary wasn't confused. What happened then?"

Luke picked up where he had left off.

"I ran across the track, just as Chemistro was aiming his gun into the crowd in the stands. I don't know what he had in mind, maybe turning the bleachers to glass and hurting hundreds when they shattered. Maybe something worse."

"I tackled him, all 350 pounds of me knocking him to the ground, but he had a good hold on his alchemy gun, and got three shots off as I wrestled him for it. They missed me, and hit a hot dog stand, turning it into solid gold…"

"Whoa, hold up. He could make gold? What an idiot," the little blue teddy bear robot said. "If he could make a hundred pounds of gold, or diamonds or whatever, why was he mad about who got to SELL these magic guns?"

"You both should let Mr. Cage tell the story. He was there, he'll tell it best if you don't interrupt," Terry Vance said. "Now be good and listen. Ask questions after."

Luke hid a smile. The boy was only 13 and talked to his sister like he was her father. And while other super-scientists had made killer robots by the dozens, Terry was the first one he met that made one as a toy for a little girl. Bluebeary was sure an improvement from the usual things he ran across.

"Chemistro got a lucky shot, kicking me in my stomach. I lost my grip on him for a second, and he aimed the gun down at his own right foot, turning it to solid steel! He kicked again, connecting with my kneecap. The pain made my other leg go under, and he ran off. We both knew if I was close to him, I could beat him hand to hand eventually. But with some distance, he could turn my skin into napalm or my bones to rubber. He got about 30 feet away, turned, and aimed right for me…"

"Then his foot turned from iron back into NOTHING. In the middle of the fight, he got so mad and upset, he somehow FORGOT that anything his alchemy gun changed, sooner or later turned to dust. Just lucky for me it changed right when it did!"

Melanie gasped, then giggled. Her bear laughed and said "That's sad. And hilarious. It's sadly hilarious. Salerious."

Terry shook his head as they walked into the subway car. "The guy forgot what his own invention DID and then used it on himself. I'd have to flunk any engineering student that dense."

The doors closed, and whisked them off towards Grand Central Station and Terry and Melanie's home with their family in Queens. The figure that had been following them from a block behind them during their walk stood watching the train go. He was a pale Caucasian who didn't look like he got enough sun, a bit under average height and weight, dressed casually in a Yankees cap and jacket. He scratched at his goatee and mumbled "Who was that guy with Vance? He looks a bit more athletic than the usual engineers he hangs with."

Norton Fester, The Looter, sometimes called The Meteor Man, walked away. After all, there was always tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5 Getting Ducks in a Row

Later that same Wednesday, 3 PM

Lieutenant Rafael Scarfe of the N.Y.P.D. was lead investigator at the scene of a jewelry robbery gone right for once. One of the diamond dealers on West 47th and 5th Avenue in mid-town Manhattan had been held up by four teenagers who didn't know any better. The teens had panicked, and tried to take hostages of about a dozen ex-Israeli soldiers who had gone into the diamond business.

"You should have stuck to liquor stores kid," he said as the ambulance pulled away. "There you might have gotten a warning shot when the guy missed." He sipped hit coffee and supervised as patrol officers took down statements and forensics took photos for the trial. At least all the would-be robbers were probably going to pull through. A similar robbery attempt the previous month had been a lot messier to clean up.

"Hey, Rafe!" a familiar voice called from outside the police tape across the door of the shop. Lt. Scarfe knew the voice of his old partner Misty well. If it hadn't been for the terrorist's bomb that took of her right arm and sent her into working in private security, he knew in his gut she'd have made it to at least a deputy commissioner position by now. He stepped carefully around the glass from the shattered display cases and leaned on the door frame.

"What brings you 'round? You're not working for the diamond exchange these days, are you?"

"I wish," she chuckled. "I could use a client that sees a $400 million turnover every single day. I'd work on commission, no problem. I need a favor, I can trade you for some first rate rumors and tips down the road. Got a few minutes?

Lt. Scarfe looked over the scene, and didn't see any mistakes being made that would lose the district attorney an open-and-shut case. "Sure, I have time. What's the favor?"

"I'm helping Danny and Luke with one of their "costume things." I can never keep up with all the masked nutjobs that work in the tri-state. Nightwing Restorations isn't big enough for the FBI to trust us with the weekly bulletin, and it's too important to trust the data in public records. You know the way these people move. The Secret Six could be here today, in Houston tomorrow. Can you get me a copy?" The FBI intelligence updates were generally a closely guarded piece of information, since the last thing a police informant wanted was to have Mr. Hyde or the Rhino piece together who told the police their travel plans. They were to be kept hard copy only, no electronic files allowed.

Rafe thought a second and decided it was a fair trade. "OK, I need some undercover work done soon that you and Colleen would be perfect for. Just a one night thing. Help me out, and I can have a rush photocopy job sent via rookie cop delivery in a few hours. Just promise me to shred it later, the feds get VERY upset when their confidential stuff gets the wikileaks treatment."

Misty shook his hand, sealing the deal. "Much obliged. We'll talk tomorrow, I'm still working the angles. But there's a good chance I might be calling you Friday to pick up some big-time America's Most Wanted. Have fun with all this!" she waved, as she turned to go.

"Ah, I know you miss the glamor of real police work," Rafe grinned into his coffee.

MEANWHILE, AT DR. WEST'S OFFICE, BOBBY WRIGHT WAS TRYING TO FOLLOW AN EXPLANATION…

"So wait. How is all this a bad thing?" Bobby was puzzled. So far nothing but good had come from his experience with the space rock and its after effects. "You're saying I can control everything I'm made up with my mind. I think that's pretty great."

Dr. West sighed. "And maybe it is. I'm trained in general medicine. I'm not an expert in what happened to you. Almost no one anywhere is an expert in it. But that's why we're lucky that this happened in New York. Upstate there is a research program that studies this sort of thing, some of the best minds in the world. It would be a very good idea if they examined you themselves. I may well be wrong, but you deserve to be sure, and to get the best help in case I'm right."

Bobby could tell he was being told the truth, that the man was concerned about him. He didn't hear that from many people, so he took it seriously when he did hear it. "What do you think is happening? I got a B in Life Science last year, so explain it slowly please."

Dr. West looked out the window. "Somehow, something about that meteor you found is letting you do things like pass your body through solid matter, and make yourself much more dense so that needles won't go through your skin. Now people with superhuman abilities that can do that are controlling how tightly bound up their atoms are. If the atoms had NO connection we'd all look like… floating clouds, I suppose. So think of that as like you are when you pass through things. Just a cloud of atoms all moving in the same direction."

Bobby had a good visual imagination, and he was picturing a cloudy humanoid floating towards someone, moaning like a ghost. It'd be the scariest thing to see EVER and he decided to practice at home in the mirror until he could do it. Or until he got bored and though of another thing to try to do. Maybe if he imagined his atoms sort of…. drifting a little further apart or something….

"OK, got it. So when I'm like I'm needle-proof, the atoms are really tightly connected, or something. Rest of the time I'm just like everyone else?"

"That's right. Now from times this has happened before, doctors have learned to look at cell samples… you know about cells, how they work? They covered all that in school?" Bobby nodded. "We look at cell samples and make sure that when they snap back to normal, they all work properly. Sometimes some of them are damaged. And over time more and more get damaged, faster than the body can repair them."

Bobby was imagining a Bobby Wright made of millions of bubbles. Then one by one the bubbles started to *pop* and the bubble bobby started to look thinner and sicker. He didn't like the idea. In fact, he HATED it. He thought of himself in his Captain Hero costume to block out the bubble-boy image.

"So you took a lot of blood last time, and the nurse did when I got here. How does it look," Bobby said with a quiver in his voice. He didn't want to be told he was going to die. Never even knew his dad's name. Didn't remember his mom's FACE, it wasn't FAIR….

Dr. West looked serious, and sad, and was obviously trying to sound optimistic when he said, "I can't be sure. What happened to you could wear off tomorrow. Your abilities could change so it's not a risk. They could change so the risk is worse for that matter. There are so few experts in this, I don't want you to assume the worst. You might be fine…." His voice drifted off, and his eyes started to go wide, watching Bobby.

He was imagining 12 year old him in his costume, but it wasn't enough to block out sick, dying one cell at a time Bobby in his mind. Captain Hero needed to be bigger. Older. Like Bobby would be at 21 or so… Strong, healthy, indestructible even. In his mind, he superimposed the large blond bodybuilder in the red, blue and gold uniform. Part of sick dying Bobby was still visible, so Captain Hero's cape grew, billowed, blocking him from view, until only THE WORLD'S GREATEST CHAMPION was left.

There was a bright flash of light. Dr. West was so surprised he fell backwards off his chair, scrambling back to his feet.

Bobby Wright was nowhere to be seen. A large scorch mark was on the carpet. The chair was shattered. A powerfully built blond young man in red tights, with blue boots, gloves and cape, a blue and gold H on his chest.

"NO! IT'S STUPID, IT'S NOT FAIR! I JUST WANTED MY MOM AND TO KNOW WHO MY DAD WAS! I CAN'T DIE, NOT NOW! I GET TO BE A SUPERHERO AND DIE AT THE SAME TIME?!"

The red and blue figure slammed his fist down on the desk, sending wooden shards all over the room. "No. Not going that way. I'm gonna get help, find someone and get them to help find my mom. Maybe I am gonna die, maybe not, but I am gonna at least see her first."

"B- bobby, ca-ca-calm down…" Dr. West stammered.

"I'm not Bobby. I'm Captain Hero. See ya around doc. " With that he jumped… no, he FLEW across the room, and passed through the wall without a trace like a ghost.

AUTHORS NOTE

In writing this, I stumbled across Tony Lewis's excellent blog on the "original Marvel Universe" idea that I tend to follow as well. Tony has done a VERY well thought out chronology and story break down of how Marvel's continuity and time line got so messed up after about 1989-90 that everything written AFTER that point could just as well be a WHAT IF? Fan fiction story based off of the "original Marvel Universe." If you've read this far and have liked what I'm doing, please google his blog and read it. Seriously, I'd give it 4 out of 4 stars.

I also want to give props to "The Fantastic Four (1961-88) was The Great American Novel" by Zak McKracken. Again, google it, you'll find it. His scholarship into Marvel continuity is amazing. His articles on super-science and how powers REALLY work in Marvel continuity helped a lot of the ideas I was working on gel into something easier to explain. If I could buy Marvel back from Disney, I'd make it the official company explanation.

Thanks for reading this far, I'm building up to re-writing all the Captain Hero issues of POWER MAN AND IRON FIST in which he appeared from Bobby Wright's point of view, avoiding the TOTALLY tacked on "kill 'em all" ending the series got cancelled with.

BTW I am not blaming Christopher Priest. Heck, if I was told "You're cancelled with issue #125, wrap it up fast!" I'd probably end a series with a massive shoot 'em up to make my characters completely unusable too. I'd take it as a personal challenge to end on a bigger slaughterhouse than the ending of BLAKE'S SEVEN or THE BOYS.

Far as I'm concerned, he did such a great job setting up a character that could have been the Billy Batson/Captain Marvel of the House of Ideas. For all I know, Priest was going to do a brilliant revamp of a classic character type. Since he didn't get the chance, I wanted to give it a shot.

Thanks for reading!


	6. The Wizard's Tower and the Magical Guard

"And that's how Blueberry drove off the evil burglar!" Melanie was skipping happily, finishing telling her version of Norton Fester's break-in to her older brother's laboratory/workshop just as she, her robot teddy bear, Terry Vance and Luke Cage walked up the sidewalk to their house.

"That was… very good, Melanie. I liked how you described the… rainbows shooting from Bluebeary's chest, it was very poetical." Luke smiled at the cute little girl, and shot a questioning look at Terry. "So your brother's a wizard and works in a tower, huh?"

"Yep! Just like in the cartoons. All wizards got towers, duh!" Bluebeary took his kid's hand and tugged her into the house. "C'mon, I can smell cookies inside, and they may still be warm!" The pair scrambled into the house.

"Your little sister is a real trip man," Luke said with a small smile. "I'm glad to meet someone so young that's a fan of my work." She had spent the train ride to their Queens neighborhood asking about every one of his Heroes For Hire adventures that had made the papers and one or two that hadn't. Luke suspected her brother had found details out about them for her; all afternoon she seemed able to get Terry to do anything she asked, if she was cute enough about it. "Can you tell me what happened, without the magical bear and all?"

Terry nodded. "I can do better. We own the house next door, I turned it into a work space. After I check on mom I can take you into my lab and show you the surveillance recordings. I have cameras all over the place. Now I think I need to start putting in something more elaborate. Stun guns, tranq gas, maybe some lasers. MOM, I'M HOME!"

Luke looked around the small, well-kept home. He had read that Vance made a lot of money on the patents he held, but he didn't see any of it here. It looked like a home any lower-middle-class New York family could afford. A middle-aged woman, redheaded and freckled, taller than average and wide framed, stepped into the front room, her daughter in tow.

"My Melanie has been telling me all about you Mr. Cage, I'm Rowina. I want to thank you for helping my son. And for making my little girl's year.

"It's nice to meet you too, ma'am," Luke took her offered hand, and shook it as gently as he could. With steel hard skin, he always had to handle regular humans as if they were made of eggshells. "Terry was going to show me some video he got of the break-in. Were you a witness to any of it?"

"Oh no, I worked that night. I'm a nurse at Forest Hills Hospital. I'm just glad Terry's robots handled things. I guess all this comes with people realizing he's going to be the next Tony Stark."

Terry walked in from the kitchen eating a cookie. "MOM. I am not going to be an alcoholic that loses his company every few years. I know you mean well, but he's hardly a role model of mine. And I will be installing some new security measures here, at dad's garage and for you to take with you. "

Rowena turned, suddenly panicked. "NO BOOBY-TRAPS! I still feel bad about the ones you set up that wound up gluing the mailman to the sidewalk…"

"Mom, I was seven. Even prodigies are going to get carried away at that age. I'll keep it practical this time. I'm NOT a child. I'm 13."

SHORTLY, ON A VIDEO MONITOR IN TERRY'S WORKSHOP…

A slightly shorter than average man in a purple and white bodysuit, with an all-covering tight matching hood on his head was standing in the open in front of the Vance house late at night. He was aiming a hand held device up at a telephone pole, while standing in-between the parked cars, he fiddled with the device and suddenly a quick shower of sparks came from the phone lines.

He looked about to see if anyone was watching, and ran to the house next door to the Vance home. A moment's indecision, and he went around to the side door near the garage. The camera angle jumped, showing a top view of him standing by the door, peering at a keypad beside the door. He tried the device he had fried the phone lines with, but nothing happened.

"Why didn't it work on the keypad," Luke wondered aloud.

"Near as I can tell, it sends out an electromagnetic pulse, very tightly. It fries anything electric. But the keypad there is just a dummy, not hooked to anything. TOTALLY there to waste a burglar's time trying to bypass it," Terry explained.

The Looter tried another device on his belt, with no effect, then impatiently shoved the door one handed, and it swung in. "Now, he just broke four different deadbolts into a steel doorframe with a quick push. I designed that door to stand up to a junkie with a sledgehammer. I hadn't counted on a honest-to-God super villain trying to steal my bike."

"Welcome to the big leagues, I guess," Luke said as he sipped some iced tea Mrs. Vance had given him.

The cameras followed The Looter into the house as he used a camera from his belt to take pictures of various prototypes, and pick up and examine some devices. He took a sack off his belt, and started filling it with some small equipment like a reverse Santa. He walked through the rooms, and stopped in front of a large whiteboard covered in mathematical symbols.

"Why aren't alarms going off? No motion sensors inside?" Luke was looking around the workshop, spotting a dozen places sensors should have been.

"I never expected a human bulldozer to push in. I'm making changes." On the screen, The Looter had taken off his mask to peer closely at the white board. He took several pictures, then picked up a dry erase marker, and completed several parts of the equations.

"What did Fester just add?" Luke leaned in, trying to read the expression on The Looter's face.

"A few interesting ideas on subatomic particles. I'd need about $3 billion worth of equipment to test it as a theory, but it is a good start."

The camera cut to show Bluebeary sneaking into the workshop. "He patrols the house when Melanie falls asleep. He heard something and investigated. I neverthought to program him to wake me before he does this sort of thing," Terry commented. "He edited this part himself, he was proud of it. The sound will come up soon."

Fester was engrossed in the formulas before him, and was oblivious to the three-foot high blue robot stalking into the room behind him. The bear cocked his head to the side, miming how a small child shows that it is thinking, then nodded to show a decision had been made.

"**Cave paulo casia ursum**!" a deep booming voice came over the speakers, quite unlike the robot's usual tone. His eyes were glowing a bright red, his mouth became a mass of fangs as Norton Fester turned suddenly, going into a combat ready crouch. The robot bear slowly levitated several feet off the ground, and he snarled, slashing the air with his paws.

"Last Halloween Melanie went out as a witch and wanted a floating demon teddy bear," Terry explained. "She won best costume at her school."

"Sweet Christmas, what do you get her for her birthday," Luke muttered.

A lion's roar was heard, the bears head spun completely around, and The Looter dived for the door.

The recording jumped to the driveway by the side of the house, and The Looter was struggling to detach himself from the cute, fuzzy, snarling creature attacked to his chest. "Whoa there, you're not going anywhere!"

"GET OFF ME YOU…. RIDICULOUS TOY!" The Looter managed to connect with a punch, sending the robot bear flying into some bushes. Having freed himself, he turned and ran into the darkness of the surrounding neighborhood.

"Ridiculous? You're wearing pajamas!"

"I'm going to upgrade that bear," Terry said as he turned off the recording. "I designed it as an educational toy, health monitor, and entertainment system. I'm sure I can pack in some functions to protect a child from kidnappers or other dangers."

Luke Cage stood and stretched, looking around the workshop. "Me and Danny have both fought some seriously crazy killer robots. You sure you want to make a killbot teddy bear for her?"

"I won't go overboard. I learned not to give robots disintegration beams when I was ten."

AUTHOR'S COMMENTS

Stay tuned for a rock em sock em battle with someone unexpected, a guest shot from everyone's favorite Web Head, Captain Hero's first lesson in how to be a hero, and more!


	7. Chapter 7 First Hero, First Villain!

Wednesday night, about 10 PM

After storming out of Dr. West's office that afternoon, Bobby had flown from Yonkers in the general direction of New York City, the city with more superheroes than anywhere in the world. He spent several hours soaring above the skyline, too angry to think about anything other than getting above the world. He didn't feel sick, but the doctor had been very sure of himself.

He spent several hours just practicing his flight. He didn't know HOW exactly his powers worked. It seemed if he could imagine it clearly enough, he could make his body do it. He spent an hour or so flying alongside jets leaving the JFK International airport, waving at the passengers. The little kids waving back happily did make him feel better. Captain Hero did a flying corkscrew for one group of kids on a British Air flight, and he was pretty sure he had seen some of them clapping.

He didn't want to get sick. He definitely didn't want to die. But it helped to know that maybe he was going to be able to do a few cool things first.

He stood atop the Flatiron Building and watched the sun go down. He changed back to his plain old normal 12-year-old Bobby Wright self, stood on the edge of the roof, and thought about what he was going to do next.

Spiderman was on one of his nightly patrol routes. He did his best to mix them up, to avoid being predictable. Tonight was one of his favorites. Three times around Central park, then south around Times Square twice. Then to the top of the Empire State Building, south through Koreatown, and around the Flatiron District in a zig-zag pattern, ending up going east to Stuyvesant Town. It gave him a good mix of environments, heavy population density, and at least guaranteed him one chance to help someone in need every time he went that route. Plus it was one of his routes he could run and jump roof top to rooftop for almost the whole time. Web fluid wasn't cheap, after all.

Scurrying along the side of the Flatiron Building, his spider sense gave a small tingle in the back of his neck. Somewhere close was something powerful enough to be a potential threat… not a flat out danger, more like a heads up to not be careless. "Maybe I better take to the high ground and see what's around. Could be nothing, or could be that The Sandman's getting a Jamba Juice across the street. Worth a look anyways."

As he got to the edge of the roof, he felt a sudden shock. A young blond boy in a red t-shirt and blue jeans was standing on the far edge of the building, and looked like he could step over the edge any second! The kid hadn't seemed to hear him. From past experience, Spiderman knew that yelling "HEY, DON'T JUMP!" was likely to scare people into leaping off the edge.

"Don't miss, Parker," he thought to himself. "you haven't lost a jumper in years, keep the streak going…" He fired two webs, sticking to the kid in the middle of his back and at the waist, and pulled firmly, dragging the kid backwards roughly ten feet. Reeling in the slack, he now had the kid leashed, in case he dived for the edge and the long fall to the street below.

"What the heck! Oh, wow… SPIDERMAN! I've seen you a few times but never this close up. Once you were swinging around the Brooklyn Bridge and I was walking across. Why'd you web me?"

The kid wasn't screaming in fear, that was good. And he didn't seem like he'd been in the middle of a suicidal jump. Better get the whole story. He cleared his throat, and replied, "It seemed like you were close to falling. What's your name and what're you doing? You're a bit out of place up here."

The kid ran his fingers through his hair, kicked the roof under his feel and looked defensive. "Wasn't doing nothing. Just looking around. I'm Bobby, whats YOUR real name, fair's fair," he said the last with a mischievous grin.

Spiderman moved closer, to get a better look in the low light. He'd once been tricked into saving an android that looked like a small child, that turned out to be a very powerful bomb. It seemed like every stupid way to kill someone had been tried on him one time or another. But Bobby didn't set off his danger sense the way a booby-trap would. "So how did you get up here Bobby, I'm the town's official wall crawler, so you better not be stealing my act."

"Maybe I flew up, you don't know."

"For every person who tells me they can fly that CAN, I meet about 200 that're just on drugs. Now if you're on drugs, I have to get an ambulance to take you to the hospital for your own safety… huh…." Spiderman stopped talking as Bobby slowly floated off the roof and hovered about three feet up, with a grin. "Well if one of us is on drugs, it isn't you. Where did you pick that trick up? I don't see jet boots. You're a mutant maybe?"

Bobby floated back to Earth with a shrug. "Maybe. I've only been able to since today. Even my parents don't know yet, you're the first person who's seen it, I think."

Peter Parker had lied a lot when he was a teenager about being superhuman. He was the world's greatest expert at covering up this particular thing, and he'd counted at least three lies Bobby had just told, probably four. But thinking back to 15 year old Peter Parker, he knew that calling the kid out wouldn't help any.

"Can you do anything other than fly?" Spiderman asked nonchalantly, flipping somersaults to the edge of the roof and sitting down.

"No, just fly," Bobby probably lied. As Peter Parker, he often wished his Spider-Sense for danger also alerted him when people were lying to him. It'd make negotiating with J. Jonah Jamison over how much he was willing to pay for Peter's photos a breeze for one thing. The kid still gave him the uneasy feeling he felt around the sorts of superhumans that can knock down a building without any effort. But maybe the kid hadn't figured out how powerful he was?

"So what's your plan? Not going to be a costumed criminal, I hope. You seem like a nice kid, hate to see you banging heads with Thor or Iron Man. Thor hit me once and I still feel it when a thunderstorm starts."

Bobby looked like he was deep in thought. "It'd be nice to have people liking me, to save people in trouble, keep them from being hurt. But I want to do other stuff more." Bobby looked up at the moon overhead, and said quietly, "I see in the papers. You know just about everyone. Every hero, every criminal, the police, the reporters. Who's the absolute best detective you know?"

Peter could tell this was an important question, and he could guess why. Someone or something was a mystery that Bobby needed solved. "It depends. I've never seen anyone figure out a crime scene faster than Daredevil. Far as police work goes, Captain Jean De Wolffe can get the city's law enforcement system going full speed on a case better than anyone. If you're looking for a criminal that's in hiding, I have to give Frank Castle credit, The Punisher finds people better than anyone I've ever even heard of."

"What about someone who's been missing a real long time. Like more than ten years." Bobby was barely above a whisper, looking at the moon.

"That's hard to say," Spiderman looked over the edge of the building in thought. "That takes someone who knows a lot of other people to ask, calling in favors, getting help sorting through all the trails people leave. Someone who doesn't give up. Heroes for Hire are the first ones that come to mind. They usually charge for their help, but they will work for free if it's for a friend, or someone sympathetic."

Peter thought of the times he had encountered Luke Cage and Danny Rand, better known as the Iron Fist. Maybe they owed him a favor. They could at least listen to the kid, help him know who to go to for help finding whoever he was missing. He made a decision, and turned back to where Bobby had been standing.

"Hey, kid, maybe I can…. Where'd ya go? HEY, KID!" He looked into the sky, around the surrounding building tops. This kid was a fast, he hadn't expected him to zip off so quickly. "Blast it, I was going to try and help. Why'd you have to take off so soon?

From about 400 yards above and a block south, Bobby squinted down at Spiderman. He felt bad sneaking off like that, but he'd learned in foster care not to trust anyone in authority more than he absolutely had to. Spiderman was a superhero, he didn't want to risk him suddenly asking if Bobby was a runaway and deciding to "bring him in for his own good."

But it was lucky to meet him and find out from him that Bobby's guess was right. Heroes for Hire were his best bet to find his mom. And even Spiderman said they would work for free for a friend!

Maybe if he flew just right, he could follow Spiderman tonight. The way the Daily Bugle made it sound, Spiderman had a major battle with masked criminals every single day. It'd be awesome if he got to see a fight up close!

Spiderman leapt from building to building, southeasterly, towards the Gramercy Park neighborhood. The actual park itself was private, with only a few hundred local residents able to purchase keys to get in, at a very high price. One of the benefits of being able to make a 30-foot standing leap, climb walls and scurry in shadows was that Peter had been able to explore many such places over the years. If anyone asked him why he patrolled inside the park sometimes, he would say it was in case anyone in there was in danger but the truth was he thought it was quite beautiful there at night. After a short time inside, he headed east towards the nearby junior high school; he'd surprised some vandals there recently, so it was worth a peek.

Sure enough, in the parking lot were two very out of place looking white vans, one painted on the side advertising a car detailing service, the other was a rolling billboard for an exterminator. From the looks of the five guys conversing between the vehicles, a business transaction was being discussed. At 11:20 at night. In a place that was easy to drive to and from with little notice. "Nothing suspicious here…" Spiderman wished he had supersensitive hearing for the millionth time. They could be discussing something as boring as pirated DVDs, or something as all-important as smuggling weapons of mass destruction for HYDRA. It was even possible they were just discussing something legit, in the least legit looking way imaginable.

He watched a bit, unaware that he was being watched from above, by a hovering Bobby Wright.

"Well Parker," he muttered through his mask. "If I was a detective hero like in the movies, I'd have my butler back in my cave run their license plates. I'd have thrown a bat-shaped microphone on top of their vans and listened to their talk. Heck, I'd know who their criminal mastermind was before I even got near them. Real life sucks…"

Finally, the two from the exterminator van and the three from the auto detailing van seemed to reach a conclusion. The detailers retrieved two rather heavy looking gym bags and handed them to one of the exterminators. After looking inside both, the exterminators opened the back of their van, and began to off load boxes the size of milk crates, passing them to the detailers who put them into their van.

"OK, so I'm not a detective. BUT… I know how to do this."

"HEY GUYS, WHATCHA DOING?!" Spiderman shouted as he leaped and flipped and cartwheeled towards the two vehicles. If a crime was in progress, his spider sense would go off, guns would be pulled, GUNS would go off, he'd dodge the bullets…. Worked every time. Who needs detective work?

"It's the bug! Shoot him!" Yep, thought so, Peter said to himself.

"Aw guys, I was totally bluffing! If you'd offered me a beer I'd have left!" Webbing shot from his wrists and he yanked two guns away, leaping in the air to dodge the shots of the third car detailer. As he landed, a backhand and a kick knocked the third gunman unconscious.

The two men he had disarmed tried to rush him, apparently hoping to get him to the ground and have some advantage. The two from the exterminator van had focused on diving into the back of their van and slamming the doors, the engine started.

Peter knew he had to make this quick. Chasing a speeding van through midtown was not a good idea, pedestrians could get hurt. He threw one of the two men charging him into the other, stunning them both. He immediately turned, ran after the van as it started to move, grabbed the rear bumper and lifted, the wheels spinning in the air. Two quick lifts up and slams down and the wheels broke off the axel.

The driver stumbled out of the crippled vehicle, and collapsed, apparently unconscious. The passenger stepped out, unusually calm, and Peter's spider sense warned him of possible danger. It was a man in his early forties, Black unruly hair with the beginnings of grey creeping in, a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, with round frameless eyeglasses. His somewhat baggy green suit was old fashioned, out of style and somehow familiar. Where had Spiderman seen this guy before, he thought quickly.

"How…. How do you people find me," the passenger said as he stood shaking with some sort of palsy. "I quit the game, just whipped up some crystal meth to pay the bills and you STILL find me!"

Peter's spider sense went from a tingle to a loud scream in the back of his head. "Oh, man. I know this guy! He used to brawl with Thor all the time! Win or lose, this is gonna hurt…"

From about a hundred or so feet above, Bobby hovered, not yet turned into his Captain Hero form. He assumed smaller was better, harder to spot up in the air. He'd been thrilled to see Spiderman dodging bullets. He had almost changed and flew in to save the day…. Well, save the night. But Spidey seemed to be doing just fine alone.

Could he move! The way the hero leapt about, punching, kicking, dodging faster than the eye could follow, even from a distance. Fighting against that must be nearly impossible! And there were some super criminals that were supposed to be faster that Spiderman. Bobby resolved right then and there to get MUCH faster at doing his moving-through-solid-matter trick. Especially since he hadn't figured out if he was bullet-proof when he went hard as steel to have super-strength.

The hero RAN after the speeding van, lifted the back half up and slamming it down once, twice, sending the wheels flying off, immobilizing it for good. WOW, that was a good trick. Bobby had thought he was trying to flip it over, but this was much cooler.

Two men got out of the van, the driver collapsed in a few steps, the passenger was shaking so much Bobby could tell it even at this distance. He couldn't make out what was being said; he decided it was a shame he didn't have super-vision or hyper-hearing or whatever those powers were called. They sounded useless until you needed to see something far away….

The passenger was growing, screaming in pain or anger… Spiderman jumped at the man in the greenish suit, stood on the screaming man's shoulders, as he suddenly doubled in size, throwing punches at the man's head. The giant in the green suit staggered, and swatted Spiderman off the way a man swats a fly.

Spiderman landed and tumbled back to his hands and feet on a low crouch. He fired both his web-shooters, attaching sticky rope lines to the giant man's ankles, and yanking back hard. The big man toppled, screaming in rage. Spidey whipped the web lines hard, sending the giant into a nearby wall with the sound of a wrestler slamming into a table.

Reaching down and tearing away the pants cuffs the webs had stuck to, the giant regained his footing and snarled so loudly that even 100 feet away. "YOU LEAPING FOOL! I am Mister Hyde, I have smashed Thor and the Hulk! Beaten Daredevil into a pulp, and had Captain America at my mercy! I will DESTROY YOU!"

The two charged each other, hero and villain trading strikes, punches and kicks. Spiderman was faster, dodging most of the attacks but several hard blows had him obviously stunned. The gigantic Mr. Hyde was apparently unaffected by the dozens of strikes Spiderman had landed.

Hyde swung an arm back and connected with a massive haymaker, sending Spiderman back a good 20 feet, skidding across the pavement, his body limp.

"Time to earn my name…" Bobby thought. A blinding flash of light lit the sky like a lightning flash as he changed to his adult, red and blue costumed form.

"CAPTAIN HERO, COMING THROUGH!" Flying at his top speed down, thinking himself as hard as steel, Bobby tackled Hyde from behind, driving the super villain into the ground. He went into ghost form suddenly, before Hyde could grapple with him on the ground. Bobby had seen enough professional wrestling to know that when it comes to up close grappling, whoever was strongest would win. And Hyde certainly LOOKED bigger and stronger than Captain Hero did, anyway. Better to not risk it.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" Hyde roared, stumbling to his feet, shaking off the injuries from being dive bombed into the ground.

With courage in his voice that almost reached his heart, Bobby stood, hands on his waist, a smile on his face, blue cape blowing in the wind in a heroic pose. "I am Captain Hero, defender of the helpless and protector of the innocent, you fiend!" He remembered reading that line in an old comic book, and had always liked it. Especially since he felt helpless and innocent most of the time.

"Captain HERO?! What a stupid name!" Hyde laughed at him, preparing to charge.

Bobby was nervous. He'd fought in school yards and ball courts, like every young boy. But never with someone who actually wanted to KILL him. He'd watched plenty of pro wrestling and kung fu movies, so he sort of knew what to do. But he had been scared to really fight a real super villain, especially one as savage as Hyde. But then that fool made fun of Bobby's special name for himself.

And NO ONE makes fun of a 12 year old without making an enemy for life. Bobby stopped being scared and Captain Hero decided to show what he could do.


End file.
